DAMP, dull and sometimes desperately dreary, December proved relatively mild in the Chilterns, barring a handful of chilly nights where clear skies produced frosty mornings and brighter days.
Yes, there were storms up north and snow on the Scottish hills, but for the most part the month was more about muddy footpaths and grey skies than ice or snow.
Not that the month was without its meteorological dramas – steady downpours meant some areas were hit hard by heavy flooding – but Christmas Eve saw the warmest temperatures for 20 years being recorded at Heathrow Airport.
Beyond our shores, the news headlines played out a bleak backdrop of war and suffering from the Middle East to Ukraine, with climate change also a recurring theme to dampen the pre-Christmas spirits.
But as the festive lights went up in villages across the Chilterns, occasional breaks in the rain allowed ramblers and photographers the chance to take pleasure in the more subtle winter hues and the undoubted relief that nature can offer to those dispirited by the short dull days.
For those coping with bereavement, illness or personal tragedies the run-up to Christmas can be a particularly challenging time of year and many find refuge in the great outdoors from the cares and tribulations of daily life.
As a therapy for loss, pain and despair, the natural world allows room to breathe, unwind and recover.
Earlier in the year, TV presenter Julia Bradbury wrote about how her lifelong passion for walking had grown into something of an obsession with its healing power to strengthen the body and soothe the mind.
For some, the transformation may be even more dramatic. As Catherine Arcolio explained earlier this month, for her, nature became a genuine life-saver, a way of overcoming despair and addiction.
“Each day was an abyss,” she recalled. “All the colour, light, purpose and connection had drained out of my life.”
That was before a move from the city to a tiny rural community offered her the chance to reclaim her life amid the quiet of the woods.
Catherine’s tale may be particularly dramatic, but she is far from alone – and even veteran blogger Peaklass admits to finding the dark of winter days very difficult.
“Sometimes, on the darkest winter days, the very best place to be is in the woods,” she says. “Among the noisy rattle and creak of bare branches and the constant seethe of water over rocks, there’s a strange kind of peace and stillness.
“The air is cool and damp, but so soft that it seems to wrap itself around you, as if Nature has been waiting to welcome you back.
“No matter how cold my fingers and toes get, it always feels like a physical wrench to leave the mist and quiet colours and return to the day.”
Nonetheless, she writes with delight of the winter solstice: “From tomorrow, the sunset ticks later minute by tiny minute and the light gradually returns, ready to coax awake the sleeping seeds and fill the forests with gold again.”
Certainly for those out in all conditions the occasional glimpses of winter sunshine help to expose some cheerful splashes of colour, like the rich plumage of a mandarin duck lit up like a painting-by-numbers gift set against dark water.
And once the sunlight finally does break through the mist and murk, the clarity of the winter air can provide some startling contrasts – the sails of a windmill silhouetted against the winter sky, the glorious colours of a red kite dramatically backlit by the afternoon rays or vibrant berries glittering like jewels among the winter foliage.
Some distinctive landmarks have dominated the skyline for centuries, like the magnificent post mill at Brill which has timbers dating from the 17th century, or the stone tower mill at Great Haseley in Oxfordshire, which suffered years of neglect before being fully restored to its original working order in 2014.
Four years ago, the first winter to feature in our Chilterns calendar when a couple of these pictures were taken, we’d never heard of Covid 19 and had no idea it was about to dominate our lives throughout 2020 and beyond.
Flash forward to 2023 and there’s still plenty to worry about, which makes it all the more important to escape from the house and explore those muddy footpaths, however uninviting the weather might seem.
This is a time of year when the past feels very close at hand in our ancient Chilterns landscape, where small villages sit clustered round their ancient churches as they have done for centuries, spirals of woodsmoke curling into the air as dusk falls and the inviting glow of lamps and lanterns lighting up the cottage windows.
Deep in the woods, naked branches and frozen berries provide some striking patterns for photographers on early morning walks, the ice forming delicate patterns on spiders’ webs and the birds clearly visible against the bare twigs.
For winter ramblers, dusk and dawn are favourite times to brave the elements, not just in the hope of a spectacular sunrise or sunset but because those quiet times are also often the most promising for catching wildlife unawares.
And even when nature is looking at its lowest ebb, there’s something to see: a noisy robin, chattering starling or welcoming whistle of a red kite.
At night the owls are calling loudly too, and on clear nights those with their lenses trained further afield have the chance of capturing the appropriately named “cold moon” or other features of the night sky.
Throw in some more of those spectacular sunsets to lift the spirits and it’s easy to forget the torrential downpours and muddy footpaths.
With the winter solstice behind us, the days start getting longer from here on. There’s plenty of grim winter weather to come, but it’s beginning to feel as if spring is just around the corner.
Come rain, hail or shine, our photographers are out in all weathers capturing the beauty of the Chilterns countryside, and we are enormously grateful for their evocative portraits of our local flora and fauna this December and throughout 2023.
If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our calendar entry for January, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
